Mr. Quentin was taken aback, then his face turned dark with displeasure. Wasn't Amalia at odds with Lysandre? Helping him like this, yet speaking words that diminished his standing; what was her motive?
Almost all his dissatisfaction was visible on his face. He spoke in a very confrontational tone: "Little Boss, I co to you because I trusted you to fix my artifact. Are you incapable, is that why you're saying these things?"
"If you think I'm incapable, then you can take your artifact back," Amalia placed the artifact down.
"As a courtesy, I'll advise you: refrain from letting your kids play with the artifact. Otherwise, even the best artifact will get ruined if you use it for play."
Mr. Quentin, with a darkened expression, took back the artifact, coldly smiling at Amalia, "You're just incapable. I'll take it and go to another shop. Whether or not I let my kids play with it, it's none of your business."
"I certainly can't control that. The choice is yours," Amalia replied, glancing past him. "Next, please."
Mr. Quentin's face turned a mix of blue and pale, shooting a scowl at Amalia before storming off.
The second custor handed their artifact to Amalia, feeling apprehensive. After seeing the situation with the first custor, they were concerned that their own artifact might not be repairable.
.Luckily, the four words Amalia uttered afterward set their mind at ease. They didn't have the money to buy a second artifact.
"It can be fixed."
...
"Lysandre, how did it go?" The chubby stall owner looked smugly at the bewildered thin stall owner.
The thin stall owner imdiately reined in his emotions and coolly replied, "What do you an? I don't understand what you're talking about."
"It's because you're being two-faced that people misunderstand you," the chubby stall owner shook his head.
"That's just how I am. I don't need others' opinions," the thin stall owner replied, seemingly uncomfortable, and looking away.
"Actually, the Little Boss is pretty good, right?" the chubby stall owner added.
The thin stall owner grunted, "What's other people do is none my business. All I know is that she snatched my business."
"If you look at it from a different angle, although the business is gone, it doesn't an there's no gain," the old stall owner suddenly interjected in his usual calm tone.
"Her epairing technique is unique. You must have notice it."
"Mr. Sanchez's right," the chubby stall owner chid in cheerfully.
The thin stall owner's expression shifted slightly. Though he displayed displeasure upon discovering Amalia's genuine skill, deep down, he had secretly observed Amalia's repairs for others.
It was a completely different experience every ti, giving him different insights. So, although they appeared to have suffered a loss and lost business, the reality was quite clear to him.
"What's the point? Without innate talent, no matter how hard you try, you'll revert to the original state," the thin stall owner's face turned sowhat darker, as if realizing sothing.
This ti, the chubby stall owner refrained from further persuasion. Repeating the sa old advice would be futile, so he simply patted the thin stall owner's shoulder, offering a bit of encouragent.
...
Amalia finished with the last custor as dusk settled in, closing her stall and preparing to leave.
She didn't want to encounter that strange man again today. So, on her way back, she took another long road and as she retraced her steps until entering the residential compound, relieved not to see him there.
"You're back. I've been waiting for you for quite a while,"
A man's cheerful voice echoed in the dark stairwell.
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